Fragile
by xWinter.Sky
Summary: He was never as careful as he should be. Tamako, Mochizou, Midori
1. Part I

**Notes:** Hello!

Today, I bring over a story that I've been wanting to play with. It's a little bitter, even for me, but I'm confident and Mochizou and Tamako can bear through this. It's clearly and AU, because Midori would never want to be with Mochizou like this. But a broken heart can make you do some crazy things.

But I hope you enjoy!

* * *

 _Part I_

His eyes fluttered open before his alarm went off. Way before it went off. There wasn't even light seeping in through his curtains yet. Lately, this has become a habit. An annoying one at that. He pushed himself up and let his feet meet the cold floor of his bedroom. His gaze went to the dim electric light of his alarm. Barely 5 A.M. He forced his numb legs to move to the window, his hand reaching to pull the curtain but stopped himself.

"She won't be there," he muttered to himself.

But she was awake, he knew that. She took an unfaltering pride in her work and mochi. She was up before anyone else to start the day's work and get the mochi going with her dad. When he was much younger he would make his way across the street to greet her and, much to his own father's disappointment, helped her until her dad made him leave. "Make you own!" He would yell over Tamako's giggles.

When he realized he was smiling, he shook off the memory and, instead, went to take a shower. It had been months since he opened his window and saw her waving with a grin that reached ear to ear. He adored it and often wondered where she got the energy for something like that so early in the morning. He could barely muster the strength to lift his hand and try to mimic her action. It's been months, he thought. He could pinpoint the exact moment, the very moment that their cups started to collect dust in his drawers.

It was early August. The heat was almost unbearable and it made his white school shirt cling to his torso with sweat. He was uncomfortable but he kept still outside of Tamako's shop. Her friends were at practice before her and Anko had declared then night before that she wanted to walk to school with her own friends. Tamako pouted but went along with Anko wishes. Today was the day, he told himself. His hands were clenched in his pockets, sweat collected at his temple, and his chest felt heavier than the bag over his shoulder.

The door opened and he felt the cool breeze from the AC inside.

"Mochizou!" Tamako bounced to his side, slightly pushing his elbow. His cheeks felt hotter than the weather. She seemed unfazed by everything and leaned closer to Mochizou's face.

"Are you okay? You look a little red," Her eyes were the color of the deepest sea and he felt himself slowly getting tugged into their depths, "Mochizou?"

"Oh!" He tried to laugh it off, "I'm fine. C'mon, we're going to be late."

She smiled, "Lead the way."

Crossing the bridge, she was talking energetically about the new fall mochi at her family's store. He knew he should be paying attention but his eyes followed the line of her pale jaw, right where her beauty marks where, and he lingered there. Then, he moved to the collar of her shirt, she must've been in a rush since it was crooked and he could see a bit more skin just below. His throat felt hot and he realized that Tamako was staring at him.

"Uh. . . Sorry. Did you say something?"

She laughed, a small sparkle moving in her eye as it caught the light, " I said, if you wanted to try some samples later?"

"Of course." He answered.

"Look, we're almost there. I hope Midori won't mind I'm a bit late."

Today is the day.

He quickened his pace and moved to stop right in front of her. Her eyes widened as she halted in her step to keep from slamming into him.

"Mochizou, what are-"

"Tamako, hear me out." He caught her sleeve and held her small hand in his. He was sure it was probably soaked with his sweat but he couldn't stop himself now. He narrowed his eyes at her and ignored the heat that was slowly growing on his face.

"I- Tamako, I know we've been friends for a long time. And I know I used to bully you a lot. This may explain why but maybe-"He was babbling, jumping and climbing over the words he thought could convey what has been weighing on his heart all this time.

"Tamako, I love you." He finally said.

The air around him suddenly felt much cooler. Even more quiet. Even the hum of cars was being drowned out. And there was a strange ringing in his ears.

Tamako's eyes widened and her mouth shut tight.

"Please," He whispered, "Say something."

She looked down, at their hands, at her shoes, anywhere that wasn't his patient, golden gaze.

At last, after what felt like a century, she grinned. And he felt himself grow light with relief and a smile tugged at his lips.

"I love you too, Mochizou. I couldn't think of a better friend than you. I hope we can make Mochi together one day."

There it was. It was worse than what he dreaded. He dreaded her refusing him, telling him that he couldn't be more to her. This meant, that she didn't even consider him anything other than a friend. It couldn't even register to her.

He felt numb and cold and didn't even bother to look at her when she said she had to run ahead. Something about being late. It was over.

He sat under a tree in a courtyard in the school. The afternoon bell had rung but he didn't move to leave. Just a bit more and he could put together what was left of his heart and maybe, just maybe, start again.

"Ooji."

It was Tokiwa.

She sat beside him and without lifting his gaze to see her face he watched her hands fold over her lap. He let himself pretend it was Tamako. But Tamako's hands were a bit smaller and her feet were never this still when she talked.

"Did you tell her?" She asked quietly.

He shrugged, "Probably. I can't remember."

Her hand moved to his shoulder, she preferred smaller shoulders but for now it'd be okay.

"Look at me, Ooji." It was a clear command, so very much like her but there was a soft undertone in there that convinced him.

He leaned back on the bench and turned to face her.

"Go out with me."

Tokiwa was not one for jokes and he knew, very well, that she would never try to make him smile or laugh. There wasn't an ounce of hesitation or adoration in her hard, green eyes. He looked at her bags beside her legs. One for school and one for practice. Just like Tamako.

His eyes met hers, a deep sadness etched in his amber gaze, "Okay."

Now, it was February. The air was sharp with its unforgiving icy chill. After Tamako heard from Shiori that Mochizou was seeing Midori she no longer opened her window to him and he no longer appeared to throw the cups. They still talked, of course, a few lazy words here and there but they were empty. Mochizou would turn to stare at her once he was sure she wasn't aware of him and, though Mochizou had no idea, Tamako would open her curtain slightly every morning to look for him.

The morning when she saw Midori waiting by Mochizou's door, she felt her grip on a platter of mochi break and they scatter on the floor beside her feet. He greeted Midori with a smile, and her hand rose to brush against his cheek slightly. He looked down briefly and walked away with her. Tamako felt her throat go raw with a scream trying to crawl its way out and her eyes stung.

But, why, she wondered. Her father was yelling something about the fallen mochi but she felt her hand clench on the fabric of her shirt above her heart. That's why.

* * *

 **Poor Tamako.**


	2. Part II

**notes:** And, we dive further in. I think this is a really hard piece to write. I mean, it's Tamako and Mochizou! They're so perfect. But I wanted to explore this a bit more.

* * *

 _Part II_

Anko pretended not to notice how far Tamako seemed to be.

She pretended not to hear the small sniffles that came from Tamako's bed late at night.

She also pretended not the notice the way Tamako would stare at the shop across their home when she should be working the counter. Anko believed herself to be a good sister, more mature than Tamako in some ways. She wanted to be able to fix the things that her older sister could not. But when she saw Mochizou holding Midori's hand she felt at a loss.

And she felt Tamako slowly, slowly, drifting further away.

* * *

I'm happy.

I'm happy.

I'm happy for them.

If she rolled these words over and over on her tongue these words would become the truth. They would no longer taste like ashes on her lips. And, then, she could fall asleep without picturing the way Mochizou smiled at Midori.

* * *

It was a few days after he and Tokiwa started dating before he ran into Tamako.

There was a slight chill in the air, strange for the late summer, but he was on his way home and didn't mind. What was between him and Tokiwa was a small and bitter thing but it brought comfort to them. They were both chasing after an unattainable dream and this seemed easier. He saw her under the dim street light, standing still over the bridge. She seemed so much smaller than before, and he wondered, briefly, if she was sick. Her bag sat by her feet along with her case for the baton, which she always carried with care but now seemed dirty. Tamako would never tell anyone that she had thrown it in the river and later plucked it from the cold water.

As he got closer to her, he remembered the way Tokiwa's hand felt in his; stiff and cold.

"Tamako?" He said quietly. She stiffened at the sound of her name and turned her head slightly, reaching for the railing of the bridge. Seeing him there, when she was just thinking about him, made the world seem unstable. There was a slight tint of pink on his cheeks, but his eyes were hard and he pulled his hands into his pockets. Afraid, that if he got any closer, he'd reach out to her.

She forced the tiniest of smiles, "Hi, Mochizou."

His eyes softened when he found her hand gripping the railing, the skin on her knuckles turning white.

"Are you okay?"

She bit back the truth and looked away from him, "I'm fine, silly! The air tonight feels really nice, don't' you think?" for once it felt the usual days where they would talk non-stop about the most mundane things. But there was a strain on her throat and she knew it. But the ache in her heart to hear his voice was stronger.

He took a step forward but stopped when he saw her push back and her eye crinkle with a wince, "Tamako," He wanted to force himself to stop, " I never got to tell you properly,"

Stop.

"Tokiwa and I-"

He gulped. Stop. Please. Stop.

"We're dating. I just wanted to tell you that."

She finally looked up at him. The eyes that he loved so very much stared back at him with a light that he couldn't quite name. But there was a sort of heaviness growing within him, thinking about how she had hurt him, there was a small, bitter pleasure he took from seeing her so out of place. Then, there was a bigger part of him that wanted to put his arms around her small waist and breathe in her scent.

She let out a quiet laugh, "I'm happy. I'm happy for you."

She turned on her heel and quickly pulled up her bags, throwing them over her shoulder and left.

If she had turned, she would have seen him wipe his eyes. She would have heard a quiet, desperate sound coming from his throat.

But she didn't.

* * *

The next day, Tamako's seat is empty. And the room feels unbearably bigger and colder. He's slouched on his seat, earlier than usual. He wanted to see Tamako before anyone else that morning, too fix things or just to make sure she wasn't actually sick when all he could think about last night was how pale Tamako looked. He hadn't thought about what he was going to say but all he knew was that he wanted to see her. Badly.

Tokiwa wraps her arms around his shoulders from behind. She lowers her head so that her lips are beside his ear. This doesn't bring him any warmth but he shivers when he feels her breath across his skin.

"You can't look for her anymore, Ooji." She whispers. But her own eyes are gazing at the empty desk. He feels her hair tickle his chin and reaches to hold the strands of golden hair. He's disappointed at the sight of it and smiles bitterly. I don't deserve better, he thinks.

* * *

That summer ended and now it was late winter.

Tamako regained her balance, working at the shop, school and practice after. Everything was carefully organized in small compartments to keep her mind at ease. Graduation was nearing and she was relieved to get further away. Her friendship with Midori was strained but it never kept her from listening to Midori's lively chatter about her home, cheerleading and Mochizou. It was wound that should have never been on Tamako's heart. She had let Mochizou's confession fly over her head and someone else had caught it. She didn't deserve it.

"Tamako?" Midori asked. They were seated together on a bench in the courtyard of their school. Being February, it was still cold, but Midori insisted that they should have lunch there. Kanna came along bundled in a thick coat, barely able to open her lunch box.

Tamako had stopped paying attention and stared at the windows across, where she could see some classmates wondering the hall. She turned her head back to her friends.

"Hm?"

Midori laughed, "I said, Valentine's day is coming up. Do you have any plans?"

Tamako let her finger run over the pom-poms of her scarf. The scarf was thick and pink, one that she had purchased in the market during a particularly cold day a few years ago.

 _Mochizou had been in the same store looking at gloves. He made his way towards her, his cheeks red from the cold but, now she knows it was something else._

Are you buying that? _He asked pointing to the scarf in her hands. She nodded but her eyes skimmed over the other scarfs on display._

 _He held the pom-poms that were attached in the ends,_ These kind of look like mochi, don't they?

She had bought them right away.

Coming back from her nostalgia, "I'm not doing anything."

"We should make chocolates at my house. The day before, I mean. I might have plans on Valentine's day." Midori's gaze shifted to Tamako when she spoke the last words. Careful and deliberate; watching for a reaction. But Tamako grinned.

"Oh, on the day before I have to work in the shop." She didn't.

Her hands folded over her lap, "Have fun with Mochizou." She didn't mean it.

* * *

Everything that Mochizou had wanted to experience and live with Tamako played in his mind like movies. Each movie was in grayscale, blurry and the edges were burned but within these fake movies, he was happy. So unmeasurably happy and content and, in those visions, so was Tamako. She was next to him no matter where he went.

Midori had invited herself in on Valentine's day, her hands empty but he found himself following in her footsteps to his bedroom. His own parents had taken the day off, to celebrate and left him alone in the creaking house.

"Tamako's store is open. They're selling 'Lovey- dovey Mochi.'" Midori said, finding a seat on his bed. He stood, awkwardly on the threshold of his room. His hand on the doorknob, not sure wehtere to close it or that she would make her way out. He wasn't even sure what he wanted.

She stared at him, at the way his eyes never quite found hers, not the way he searched for Tamako. She didn't care; she had her own reasons for doing this. And, today, she felt even lonelier.

"I said, 'hi' to her before I came in here." She said quietly. When he heard this, Mochizou closed the door and settles in the space next to her. He was silent. Tamako knew his parents had left for the weekend and had seen Midori walk into his home. There was no way to clear this up. Not that he should, they were less than friends at this point. He bit his lip and ran hand through his hair. He felt Midori's hand on his lap.

"Don't do this," He whispered, "It won't make you feel better."

Her eyebrows furrowed, her voice came out colder than she wanted, "You don't know anything, Ooji."

He turned to her and pointed to the window beside them, "If she wasn't across the street, would you be here with me?"

"What about you?" She accused.

When he didn't answer, she placed her hands on his shoulders roughly and pushed him down on the bed. She moved after him, sitting on top of him. He looked away, and his mouth was pressed in a hard line. He avoids looking into her eyes; they're hollow and too proud. This, he thinks, is another thing that he wanted to experience with Tamako. In his mind, Tamako is soft on his lap, careful but slightly uncomfortable being in such an exposed position. But it's something that he would welcome because whenever he's near Tamako he feel completely exposed.

But it's Midori straddling his lap, sharp and demanding. Her hands find the buttons on his shirt so easily and her hands work to pry them open. She leans forward, her lips puckered and presses them against his mouth. They're kissed plenty of times before but now, it was as if she was asking questions he didn't have the answers to.

Mochizou finds her shoulders and presses on them gently, to pull her away to pull her close, he's not sure which could make them feel better. He finds her shoulders to be too sharp and she finds his chest lacking warmth, lacking softness that she craved. He lips are unyielding against his and he starts to reply. His hands make their way to her thighs, and stops briefly to wait for her response. Midori shifts her hips against his and her skirt reveals more. He murmurs something her lips, slowly losing his will to stop. She moves to kiss the skin over his collarbone and he shivers at the warmth, his hands moving up, finally finding the material of her panties.

It's when he feels her reach for his belt that he pulls his hands away and reaches to cup her cheek. Her face is warm, her expression softer but lost in something else.

"Midori, we shouldn't do this." He murmurs.

She ignores him and, instead, grabs his collar and pulls him towards him. His hand rests on the small of her back. She's glances at the closed window and then back at him.

"Yes, we can." She answers by pressing her lips to him again.

 _"_ _We have a special today! Lovey-dovey mochi!"_

His eyes snap open when he hears Tamako yelling downstairs. Just by hearing her voice, he can tell that she's smiling and he fights the urge to tear open his window just to see her.

He pushes Midori off and scrambles to get on his feet. She stares at him, blankly. Not disappointed and not with relief. Just like the usual way that Midori looks at him. Like he's something that shouldn't be there.

Quietly, she slides off his bed and makes her way downstairs. Not caring to look if he follows.

* * *

Tamako is wearing a pink apron and her hair wrapped in a scarf when she sees Midori exit Mochizou's home. Tamako stumbles deciding whether to greet Midori or pretend she's too busy handing out fliers. She settles with raising a flier in Midori's direction.

That's when she sees how out of character Midori looked. Her hair, which was usually well-cared for, was disheveled and her clothes, usually neat and pressed, were wrinkled and a few buttons on her dress were undone. Midori follows Tamako's gaze and returns a small smile but quickly fades as she quickens her pace.

Tamako ignores a few passersby and lifts her head to Mochizou's window.

The curtains rustle with a breeze that isn't there.

She bites her lip and turs on her heel. Anko looks at the stack of unpassed fliers in Tamako's hand and takes them away saying she has extra time on her hands while pretending not to see a wet gleam in Tamako's eyes.


End file.
